


Radiance

by CrystalRebellion



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Enemies to Friends, F/M, First Time, Lotura Week 2018, Meeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalRebellion/pseuds/CrystalRebellion
Summary: Prince Lotor, Emperor Pro-Tem of the Galra Empire extended his olive branch to the Paladins of Voltron in an effort to form a united front against Emperor Zarkon.  Only, despite his research and intel - nothing prepared him for Alfor's daughter. (Between S4 and S5)  One-shot.  (Lotor x Allura)





	Radiance

**Author's Note:**

> Lotura Week 2018 - Day 1 - Meeting

Lotor sat quietly, his hands folded in front of his lips thoughtfully.

He couldn’t articulate precisely what he had been expecting, but _she_ certainly was not it.  He exhaled, his frozen cobalt studying the forcefield around his chamber.  An irritating turn of events to be certain, but nothing he couldn’t fault the Paladins for.

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

* * *

He watched as the rest of the Galran fleet evacuated the battlefield, the siege conceded.  The only remaining forces were the five legendary beasts that had split from their united form and the lingering rebel forces.  A single, Galra fighter remained – the one that had been charging the mother ship with a self-sacrificial tenacity.

The five ships hovered around him, and for a brief moment he wondered if his hail hadn’t gone through.

Without warning, they broke formation and returned to the ship, entering through bay doors.  His eyes narrowed as the hexagonal dome lowered and a sixth bay door opened.

“Prince Lotor.”

His eyes flickered over the audio-only transmission.

“You’ve been cleared to land aboard the Castleship.”

The voice was lower than he expected, rough and flush with exertion.  Tension laced every word as if the man behind the offer was reticent.

“We will hear you.”

The feed to the Black Lion cut suddenly and Lotor found himself flipping the engines on and cautiously approaching the mobile base of the faction that had strived so vehemently to oppose him.

_What’s one more?_

He exhaled, closing his eyes, guiding the ship toward the docking bay. _Nothing left to lose._ If anyone could triumph over Zarkon… it would be the Paladins of Voltron.  _How fitting._

The rattle that rocked his vessel settled ominously around him.  He exhaled and tapped on the monitor before him, shutting down his ship entirely.  The hatch opened and he stood up slowly from his cockpit, preparing to face the legendary Paladins.

On the ground in the hangar, three slender-built men hovered, eyeing him warily with weapons drawn, but not aimed at him.  He frowned.

One bore the iconic Black Paladin armor, a battlescar over the bridge of his nose.  The smaller male next to him was donned in black and violet armor. _The Blades._

His eyes widened marginally as he took in the third man.  Fully Altean from his clothing to the crescent marks beneath his eyes – Lotor quickly calculated that he must be the ship’s commander.

He waited.

The Black Paladin watched him with an eerie intensity before he exhaled after a moment.

“We need to talk, but we cannot do it here.  We need to get out of the battlefield before anyone else shows up.”

Lotor’s eyes narrowed and he nodded, finding practicality in the statement.  As a show of good faith, he slowly raised his hands to his helm and released the locking mechanism on it before removing it from his head.  He set it in his cruiser before slowly approaching the trio watching him apprehensively.

The smaller, dark-haired male eyed him warily as he came to a stop before them.  Lotor’s eyes honed back onto the Black Paladin as he spoke.

“I’m Shiro.”

The introduction seemed in oddly familiar – it wasn’t often soldiers took the initiative to make the acquaintance of their enemies.

“Welcome to the Castle of Lions!”

Lotor’s eyes snapped to the Altean suddenly, the chipper attitude catching him by surprise.

“Shiro…”

“Keith, be still.  This is important,” the Black Paladin chided the smaller man, placing a hand on his shoulder.  “Go rest up, we’ll be hitting the teladuv here soon anyway,” he instructed.  Keith studied the commander for a moment before turning and huffing out of the hangar, leaving the Emperor Pro Tem with the Altean and the one named Shiro.

“Come along then, we’ll want to make sure we’re settled in when we travel,” he chirped pleasantly.  Shiro cast the man a curious look before nodding once in Lotor’s direction.

Lotor only nodded, content to follow behind the two men.  Coran – as the Altean was later identified as by an exasperated Shiro – continued to ramble on about his ship, damage it had sustained.

Lotor’s pulse hammered.

The Paladins seemed entirely too at ease. He hadn’t expected such lackadaisicality.

A door swished open, and Lotor followed the Black Paladin and the Altean commander into a room.  His eyes swiveled about, taking in the people.  Three more Paladins stared at him, their gaze snapping to him.  His breath caught at the fire in the Blue Paladin’s eyes.

_Thayserix._

“So _that’s_ Lotor,” he said, the distrust and vehemence obvious in his voice.

“This is Prince Lotor,” Shiro confirmed with a deference he hadn’t expected.  Coran’s eyes flitted around.  Lotor's mind raced.  He had prepared for everything, calculated all variables, and yet he still floundered...

“We should take a seat – I’d imagine we’ll be hitting a wormhole before too long,” he suggested helpfully.

A warning signal flared in Lotor’s mind – was the alchemist before him so talented that he could operate the machinery remotely?  His eyes widened.

“I just wanna know why we’re talking with him at all, Shiro,” the Blue One complained.  He waved at him dismissively.

“Lance, that’s enough,” he commanded, silencing the pilot.

“You’re the pilot of the Blue Lion,” Lotor murmured respectfully.  The frown that passed over the man’s face stunned the prince.

“No, I fly Red.”

“But your armor…”

“The Bayards are what count,” he said irritably, patting the red weapon at his side.

A shudder flushed through the ship and everyone paused to retake their footing.

“Places,” Coran suggested, settling into a seat in the lounge.  Lotor glanced over as Shiro gestured to the sunken sofa and carefully, the Galran took a precarious seat near the Black Paladin, trading warning glances with the hostile Paladin of Blue.

“Once you’re ready to listen, I have information that will be valuable,” he offered, earning a smile from the Altean.

“We will sort everything out once we’re out of this airspace.  I trust Shiro,” he added.

The tiny green one only snorted, and the larger yellow Paladin appeared troubled by something.  They, too, took seats, and braced as the vessel rocked around them.

Lotor fixed his eyes on Coran in fascination – he could feel the warp of gravity around them as the vehicle moved through a wormhole – how the man was able to do so without the control panel was beyond him.

After a moment, the shuddering of the hull stopped and everyone sighed.

“Well, that’s done.”

“How did you do that?”  Lotor couldn’t check his curiosity, watching the man openly.

“Do what?”

“You operated a teladuv remotely,” Lotor breathed in surprise.  A true, living, breathing Altean.  With alchemic skills far surpassing any he had ever seen reported.  More than his mother.  More-

“No, he didn’t.  **_I_** did.”

Time froze as quickly as the breath in Lotor’s lungs.  Even as noise broke out around him, the Blue One quickly rising to his feet, Lotor felt his body still.

He turned.

In the doorway stood a second Altean. Iconic, pink armor donned her frame, her hair pulled back behind her head.

Breathless.

_Magnificent._

He stared at the livid fire behind her gaze.  The mark of fallen galaxies, of conquest unrequited.  Enough fury burned behind her eyes to sunder entire universes.

“Princess!”

She tore her near-violent stare from him to look to her companion.

_Princess._

The words that fell from her lips as she communicated with her colleague were lost to him as he felt time spin out of control around him.  He had known of Alfor’s daughter – Haggar had made it clear she survived and was utterly lethal. 

He had never expected what he saw in front of him.

The lost Altean Princess must have been at least ten thousand years old – he did not expect _her._   His eyes finally peeled from her face and skimmed over the plates and defenses she brought to her battlefield.  His throat clenched at the sight of her Bayard at her side.

_Blue._

“Secure him,” she commanded.

“Princess, we need to talk about this,” Coran admonished.

“He hasn’t been hostile at all,” the Black Paladin argued.

The Princess’ eyes flashed back to his and he read the marked, unadulterated hatred behind them.

“We just pried Voltron off the surface of a planet that was a _bomb._ Planted by _his_ people,” she gestured violently toward him.  “ _Secure him._ ”

“Allura,” Shiro murmured, approaching her. 

“I have a rebel alliance trying to regroup.  I have a shattered power core in my ship.  I have an Altean planet that was converted into a weapon of war.  I do **_not_** need one more variable I have no control over right now!”

“You’re exhausted,” Blue commented, rising to approach her.  “Maybe I can-”

“Just… take care of it.  I need to see to repowering the cores.  The lions sustained damage, the ship took a beating, and moreover the alliance is looking to me to champion them.  I cannot have one more uncalculated unknown on my own ship,” she murmured, her voice dropping.

Her eyes were wild, calculating.

 _Of course they are,_ he reasoned to himself as he Black Paladin clicked wrist restraints in place.

Lotor made no move to oppose the gesture – he could find no fault with her violent hostility or mathematical wariness.

He watched her appreciatively.

A war-torn, war-born woman who had lost _everything_ at the hands of his father.  He had expected to meet the infamous lost princess, ever since Haggar had mentioned her.

He had never anticipated she would be so full of fire and promise.

He couldn’t have dreamed she would be the core of the rebellion.

At no point could Lotor have ever imagined she would be so utterly…

_Radiant._

He smiled and nodded as Shiro nudged his arm, encouraging him to rise.  Silently he followed the Black Paladin to the lift, fully expecting the incarceration to follow.  Before the door closed behind him, he tossed one last, curious look to the Princess behind him.

* * *

 

He rubbed his face.

“I did not account for this,” he muttered, reclining back on the bed in the chamber.  The Paladins were on another of their missions due to his information.  Slowly, but surely, they were whittling away at Zarkon’s hold.

Eventually.

So why couldn’t he shake her gaze from his mind?

Why did he see that hateful stare every time he closed his eyes?

Why did he worry for her?

He cursed.

She was light in the darkness.  She _haunted_ him.

Despite her venom and hatred, she had championed a new cause of peace.

Alfor’s reach still existed – she could herald his cause yet.

Alchemy – _Altea_ – was not lost.

He smiled softly into his palms.  Even if they never believed him – even if they never trusted him, he could guide the downfall of Zarkon.  She could retake most of what was lost, whether she believed his information or not.  In the end, she would triumph.

_She was radiant._


End file.
